Battered and Beaten But Not Yet Broken
by LadyBowie1947
Summary: Erik had fallen in love. She had seen past his deformity and had loved him in return. Then she disappeared. He fell in love again, but she chose another, leaving him heartbroken once more. But was he really in love with her or was he trying desperately to fill the empty space in his battered heart? Can he mend his beaten heart and find love or will it finally break him?
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_Ah, another story that will take me forever to finish! Honestly, why do you people continue to favorite and follow me? XD Um, okay, so one night, I was lying in bed and listening to my POTO soundtrack and I got to the end scene/song (where they're in Erik's lair) and I was also thinking about my and my friend's ErikxErin RP couple and this just came to me... XD So! We shall see where this takes me._

* * *

A soft giggle escaped the lips of the woman in his arms when he trailed his gloveless fingertips lightly down her back. He smirked and trailed them up, earning the same melodious giggle. He could listen to that giggle every minute of every day and never tire of it. Flattening his hand to her lower back to pull her close, he slipped the other up into her shoulder-length blond hair and brushed it back from her face.

"I love when you smile, my Erin," he said in almost a whisper, his heart nearly aching at the love he felt for the woman in his arms.

She rewarded him with another of her giggles, her green eyes sparkling. "I love when you make me smile, Erik." She gently caressed his marred cheek - he never wore his mask around Erin because he knew she did not fear him nor was she disgusted by him - and smiled lovingly, her own heart bursting with love. "I never had much reason to as a child."

He tilted his head, frowning in concern. "Why, my dear?"

Her eyes became haunted and she forced a smile - he did not like this as much as her genuine smiles - as she shook her head. "It is nothing."

His lips thinned as he pressed them together in slgiht frustration, wanting to press it if only to be sure he would always make her smile, but he nodded and tucked her close. "Alright..."

She laid her head on his shoulder and after only a few minutes, was nearly asleep though she mumbled a few words to him first.

"I love you..."

He blinked a few times, unsure he heard her correctly. No one had ever spoken those words to him - not even his own mother. It took him a moment to realize he had indeed heard her correctly but when he did, a bright smile lit up his face and he held her closer.

"Oh, my Erin... I love you, too."

Erin, however, did not hear his confession. She had already fallen into a deep sleep.

The bright smile on Erik's face faded only slightly into an expression of peace and contentment as he let himself fall into his own slumber.

The feelings of elation and pure happiness and love are replaced by hurt and confusion and panick when he woke the next morning.

Erin was gone.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_Sorry for the shortness. I have a few other fics I need to work on and this is just meant to be a prologue type thingy anyway. =D_


	2. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_Hey, look, an update! Woo! I was afraid I'd never get anything on this fic. So... I'm not particularly 100% happy with this. Feels too short and like not enough happens or like it's not enough backstory to be considered an info chapter or whatever. Argh! Tell me what you think?_

* * *

He could see her face.

It was everywhere. The cracks in the stones above his bed. The ink splatter on his sheet music when he accidentally spilled his inkwell. The puddle of water left on the stone when he jumped into the lake to swim.

Erin was everywhere and nowhere.

Five years. Five long years. And not a word. Just the note written in her elegant flowing script he had found on her pillow the next morning.

_Erik,_

_ I cannot stay with you. This is in no way a reflection of you but of me. I am too broken for you. I cannot make you happy. I will find a place to go far away from Paris. Somewhere I can never hurt you. I don't know if I will ever be back. For your sake, I hope I do not return. I could not live with myself if you got hurt because of me - ironic as I'm sure my leaving hurt and I am truly sorry for that. Please remember one thing, my Angel..._

_ ...I love you._

_Erin._

She had even drawn a small heart by her name. He had always loved the little things she did that reminded him of how young she was - how she'd dance around the lair as she hummed or sang aloud; how she'd leave him little notes in the mornings when she left before he woke, promising to see him later in the day or that she'd stay with him again that night; or how she'd leave her books scattered about wherever she had decided to put it until she was ready to resume its story.

_I am too broken for you_, she had said. Surely she knew who she was speaking to. He was not exactly a whole man himself. She knew of his past and how he lived. Who could be more broken than him?

But he knew. He had seen signs that he now knew he had chosen to ignore. The nightmares that she'd have some nights when she was with him - she never told him what they were about or if she had them when she slept in her own home and this secrecy made him fear her nightmares were of him; the way her eyes would become vacant when her past was spoken of; the way she very rarely ever even spoke of her past to begin with; and how her smiles became less genuine and occured less often as she seemed to retreat into herself.

The night she left was the first night in a long while that she had been truly happy and had not had a nightmare. And then she left.

With a sigh and a heavy heart, Erik replaced the note in the box with the other little notes she had ever left him, this one feeling different somehow. It was short like all the others yet felt like a letter. Would he ever see her again? She hoped not for his sake but he hoped they'd meet again.

Erik pushed the box back into its place and stood, turning toward the lake to leave. He needed to go watch the performance of the new opera that was to be debuting that night. He paused and his gaze lingered on his bed. On _her _side. His mind traitorously provided an image of her lying curled up with a book to her chest, her expression peaceful. He'd sometimes find her that way in the afternoons when she didn't have anything she needed to be doing and would fall asleep reading.

He quickly shook his head to rid his mind of those images and briskly moved into the other room, snatching his cloak from his piano bench and tying it tightly in place then pushing his mask onto his face. He always wore his mask now. It was never off unless he was asleep or bathing. The only time he removed it that was not one of those times was when he felt the need to look at Erin's notes. She had never feared his face and for that, he felt he could remove his mask to read all he had left of her.

Deciding he needed to think and get refocused on music and not his lost love, he didn't take the boat. Instead, he took one of the passages that led up into the opera house and to the small balcony near the high ceiling where he could see the stage. But before he got to the stage, a commotion near the entrance caught his attention and he changed his course, keeping hidden as he made his way into the foyer.

What he saw came as a shock to him and that was really saying something - The Phantom always knew everything that went on in _his _opera house.


	3. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_Hey, look, an update in less than a month after the last! =D I watched POTO earlier tonight and I got so many ideas for this so I'm hoping to update semi-quickly. (Haha, we all know that ain't happening. ) Uh, so, whatcha think? I hope this is better than chapter one - which I'm still not fully pleased with._

* * *

Confusion crossed his face as Erik made his way to the foyer, remaning hidden from view of everyone yet able to see what was going on. Madame Giry was leading a young girl through to the ballet dormitories. She had brought another ballet dancer. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was always bringing in young girls who needed someplace to go just as she'd brought him so many years ago.

He quickly pushed that memory away, his face contorting into a scowl. Keeping silent and hidden, he followed their path with his own, hidden in his passages. He emerged near the dormitories and watched as Madame Giry took the girl to a bed, the girl's face still hidden from him though he noticed she had dark, curly hair.

_Erin had straight, blond hair_, he thought with a sneer before shoving the thought aside as he always did when thoughts of her came unbidden to his mind. He idly wondered why he was still trying to glimpse this girl's face when he hardly cared about the younger girls. It was the older young women that actually performed in his operas that he cared about and gave his attention to. Why did this young girl seem to be so important?

The girl sat on the bed she was directed to as Madame Giry laid the girl's small cloak across the end.

"You will be happy here, my dear," she said in her heavy French accent.

The girl only nodded silently, continuing to stare at the floor, her body tense with an unknown emotion.

Erik felt his heart clench and he stepped back and retreated into the passages. He knew that silence, the unwillingness to look up, the tension in the shoulders. It was the same way Erin had gotten when she had become too overwhelmed by thoughts of her past and began to retreat into herself. But what was it that this girl was so upset about? What had happened to her?

_I don't care_, he decided. _I don't want to know_. He no longer cared to see the girl's face and wasn't going to give her any more attention than he gave the other young girls in his opera house. And when she was old enough and trained enough to perform, he'd ship her away to another opera house in another city or hope she married off and he'd never have to see her again. He wasn't going to let the girl's own sadness remind him of _hers_.

With a swirl of his cloak, he turned and stalked back through his passages to his lair.

* * *

As the days went by and turned into weeks then months, Erik found himself being pulled back toward the dormitories late at night when he could not sleep. The nightmares he had suffered ever since Erin's disappearance had become worse after the young brunette's arrival. On those nights, he would peek into the room in the dark and see the young girl - Christine, he had heard Madame Giry and her young daughter Meg call the girl - whispering to Meg in the dark.

"He was a wonderful violinist, Meg," she whispered excitedly one night. "He could play anything!"

The blond girl giggled quietly. "He sounds amazing, Christine," she whispered back.

The dark haired girl's eyes grew sad as she stared down. "He was. I miss him, Meg." A few tears slipped down her face and Meg's eyes widened in concern.

She pulled Christine close as the other girl began to cry quietly. "I am sorry, Christine. I should not have asked about your father. Would you like me to go wake Mother?"

Erik frowned and stared down, trying to process what he'd seen. So the young girl had lost her father? He tried to ignore the twinge in his heart when he remembered Erin confessing her own loss of her own father one night after a nightmare. _So different and yet so very similar_, he thought as he peered in at the girls again.

Christine had settled back into her own bed and was curled under her blanket, Meg watching her from her own. "Father always spoke of an angel. An angel of music. He had always told me he had been gifted with his talent by the angel and someday, I would receive a talent for music from the angel." Her frown deepened and she stared at the floor, away from Meg. "But I never got any better at Father's violin. Nor any other instruments."

Meg reached out to brush a bit of Christine's dark hair from her face as her mother would do to her. "You will, Christine. I am sure of that your father is in Heaven, he will send the angel to you to give you your gift of music."

Christine's eyes lit up and she grinned. "Yeah? Do you think so?"

Erik didn't bother to listen to the rest. An idea was forming in his mind and he needed to hurry and get to work before he lost it.

_She wants an Angel of Music then I shall be her Angel of Music_, he thought, determination setting his mouth into a firm line and quickening his pace. _I watched Erin despair over her own bleak past but I will not let this girl suffer the same fate as my beloved. I will do anything to make her happy!_

He suddenly stopped, his eyes wide, surprised by his feelings and want to protect Christine. Why did he feel the need to make her happy? Was it because he could not help Erin? Was he trying to right the wrongs he felt he was responsible for by letting her slip away into her sadness, causing her to run from him?

With a slightly slower step, Erik made his way back down to his lair. Confused by his reasoning or not, he was still going to help Christine.

He only hoped that he would not fail this time and condemn the young girl to the same fate as Erin.


End file.
